Life Without Baby

filling the silence in the motherhood discussion

The Universal Assumption of Eventual Parenthood

Maybe BabyBy Maybe Lady Liz

At the tail end of a pretty stressful week at work, I picked up a call that I really should have let go to voicemail. It was a colleague – let’s call her Chelsea – at another university, wondering if I might be available to act as a panel speaker for a last-minute student event she was throwing that Saturday. Luckily, it coincided with my volunteer work at an animal shelter and I didn’t have to scramble for some bogus excuse. Chelsea then asked if my newly-married co-worker Evelyn might be available. I said I wasn’t sure of her weekend schedule on such short notice, and that’s when she dropped this little gem into the conversation about my boss:

“I’d really love to have Nancy there, but I know she’s got a toddler at home and I feel bad asking someone with kids to give up part of their weekend for work, so I thought I’d at least try you and Evelyn.”

What?

Did that really just happen? Stunned, I gave a polite laugh and said I understood as she went on to complain about missing her own daughter’s soccer game for the event. But you know what? I don’t understand. I don’t understand at all how not having children of your own somehow makes your free time less valuable, open to being taken advantage of.

I don’t think Chelsea said what she said because she’s insensitive to those without children. The truth, I think, is a little more unsettling: that Chelsea saw me and Evelyn as those who didn’t have kids YET. Who would someday join the ranks of the protected, but needed to pay our dues now while we’re childless. Perhaps an okay system for those who DO go on to have kids and later reap the benefits, but what about those who choose not to? Or worse, those who desperately want to, but can’t?

The universal assumption that everyone will go on to become a parent can be a dangerous one for those of us who won’t, for whatever reason. It can mean, at times, that we’re paying into a system that’s distributing unequal rewards. And some of that is just life: unfair by nature, and often unchangeable. But it doesn’t do us much good to just come home and complain to our spouses or cats (or glass of wine) about it. I’m sure we’ve all done enough of that. Which is just one of the many reasons I’m glad there are sites like Life Without Baby that allow us to share our stories and connect with one another. The further along we can get in the conversation, the more likely we are to take it from the digital world out into the real world – with our friends, our family, our co-workers – and hopefully, someday, springboard towards real change in understanding that everyone’s life has equal value, regardless of how many tax dependents you claim. [Speaking of, does anyone know if the aforementioned cats count as dependents in the eyes of the IRS?]

Maybe Lady Liz is blogging her way through the decision of whether to create her own Cheerio-encrusted ankle-biters, or remain Childfree. You can follow her through the ups and downs at MaybeBabyMaybeNot.com.

It Got Me Thinking…About Parental Complaints

By Kathleen Guthrie Woods

“I have to spend all day Saturday at soccer games. Gag!”

“I hate wasting weekends at my kid’s swim meets.”

“Wanna trade places with me?”

I’ve heard every variation of the above from friends who for whatever reason think it’s okay to complain to me about the “burdens” of being a parent. My responses have ranged from “Sounds like fun to me!” to “Dogs are so the way to go.” to “I’d trade places with you in a heartbeat.”

I don’t use that last one very often because it pretty much shuts down the conversation, but when I do, I hope it makes them think. It’s bad enough that this person is complaining about something s/he had to know about before signing up for the whole parental gig, and don’t even get me started if this ding-dong complains in front of their sweet child. Most of all, I wish they’d think for a moment about their chosen audience: childfree-not-by-choice woman who loves kids.

I loved playing sports as a kid, I was thrilled when my parents were on the sidelines cheering me on, I have great memories of those years, and I looked forward to the day when I could create similar memories with children of my own. Girl Scout leader, Team Mom, 3rd base coach—I woulda been all over it!

Maybe I don’t understand because I’m not a busy mom, but I do understand how much it hurts to be on the receiving end of a busy mom’s thoughtless complaints.

Kathleen Guthrie Woods is a Northern California–based freelance writer. She is mostly at peace with her childfree status.

Meeting People Locally

world handsAfter my recent post about finding help, Maria asked about meeting people locally, and how to find other LWB readers who live close by.

She mentioned regional groups on the community forums, which reminded me to remind you that if you’re looking for people in your region, that’s a good place to start.

In case you’re not familiar with the private community, you can find Groups on the drop-down menu or here. The community is password-protected, so it’s a safe place to share information about where you live and you can also “friend” people to exchange messages.

There are already groups formed by readers in Canada, Austin, TX, Massachusetts, Washington, D.C., Washington State, San Francisco, Southern California, and Australia. If you’d like to find people in your region, feel free to create a group of your own.  You can do that by clicking the Add Group button at the top right.

I’ve had the good fortune to meet face-to-face with several people that I’ve got to know through this site, and there’s much to be said for chatting in person over coffee or wine. Please report back if you do manage to connect with someone near you.

Follow Friday Comes to the Blog World

hashtags1If you’re a Twitter user, you’ll probably know about Follow Friday. Follow Friday is a chance to give a shout out to tweeps you follow and spread the word about what others are doing.

I always seem to forget about Follow Friday, so this week I thought I’d bring it to the blog and share the happenings of some of my fellow bloggies.

On The Road Less Travelled, loribeth hits on a topic I’ve been trying to articulate lately—the obsession we have with the life we didn’t get to live and how easily that story can come to define us.

Jody Day at Gateway Women is taking that same topic and shaking it up with her upcoming book, “Rocking the Life Unexpected: 12-Weeks to Your Plan for a Meaningful & Fulfilling Life without Children.” She’s crowd funding to get the book published, so if you’d like to help her, you can find out more here.

Over at Silent Sorority, Pamela is celebrating her six-year Blogaversary and reminiscing about the Bad Old Days when the blogosphere was all but silent on the topic of living childfree after infertility.

La Belette Rouge has a word or two to say, most eloquently, on the topic of bitterness.

And at No Kidding in NZ, Mali makes a case that not having kids keeps you young.

Please check out these blogs, if you haven’t already. And in case you are a Twitterer, you can find Life Without Baby tweeting and twittering at @lifewithoutbaby.

Whiny Wednesday: Facebook Vacation

Whiny_WednesdayI’ve been on a Facebook vacation since the beginning of the year. There were a number of factors that played into my decision, including the amount of mindless time I was frittering away, a sudden surge in baby news, and an alarming surge in banal twaddle from people I wasn’t interested in hearing about.

I also realized that I was walking around talking to myself in third person status updates: Lisa Manterfield is doing dishes and wondering why she moved into a house with no a dishwasher. Lisa Manterfield is in a bad mood today and wishes today was Whiny Wednesday.

I don’t know when I’ll be back from my FB vacation, but I can’t say I’m missing it at all.

As it turns out, it IS Whiny Wednesday. What do you wish you could take a vacation from this week?

Asking for the Help You Really Need

holding handsLast week I wrote about learning to ask for help and I’ve been thinking a lot about that topic since. Why is it so difficult for so many of us to ask for help?

Mali made a great point in her comment:

“I used to think asking for help was a weakness. Now I realize that asking for help is often the hardest thing, and requires real strength and honesty and courage.”

It does take a lot of courage to ask for help, especially from people we care about or who know us as strong, independent women. I also think that often we know we need help, we just have no idea what we need and who to ask for it.

When I need help, I’m fortunate enough to have some true friends and understanding family members I can turn to. My friend C is a wizard at research. If I need informational support, I go to her. My friend K is an ace networker, so if I need to find someone who’s shared my experience, she would know someone who knows someone. If I need someone to be pragmatic, I call M. If I need someone to call me out on my BS, I plan lunch with SC. If I need a friend who’ll say nothing, but just give me a hug, J or C will do that, and if I need someone to commiserate on the injustices of life, SR is my go-to girl.

Mr. Fab is a fixer. If I tell him a problem, he’ll instantly go to work on a solution. But sometimes it’s not what I need. Sometimes I just want to talk and know that someone has heard me. Sometimes I just want someone to listen and say. “Aw, that sucks!”

For several years I would ask him for help and then get frustrated when he didn’t offer the kind of help I really wanted. Finally, I figured out that I needed to be specific. “I don’t need you to fix this; I just need to talk about it,” I told him. Even as I saw him register my request, I could sense that not trying to fix my problem went against his instinct. But when he saw that simply listening helped me to talk my way to my own solution, we both ended up getting what we needed.

Now, when I need to ask for someone’s help, I also try to be specific about exactly the kind of help I need, whether that’s feedback, a solution, or just someone to hand me Kleenex while I pour my heart out.

What have you learned about asking for help?

Finding support and learning to ask for help are just two of the topics covered in the new Road Map to Healing course. I’m sharing a little love right now and offering this course at a special “new program” rate until Valentine’s Day. If you’re looking for help in coming-to-terms with a “life without baby,” please consider joining me.

Whiny Wednesday: Keeping my Mouth Shut

Whiny_WednesdayMy whine today is that I wish I’d chosen to blog under a pseudonym so that I could really whine about the people in my life who are just pissing me off today. As it is, I can’t be certain that they aren’t reading this blog (and just in case, you know who you are!) and I don’t especially want to start a feud, so I’m going to suck it up and keep my mouth shut.

So, dear readers, I’m counting on you to whine on my behalf today.

It Got Me Thinking About…What I’m Worth

Girl ThinkingBy Kathleen Guthrie Woods

A friend took me out to dinner recently (a nice treat!) and I ordered a cobb salad with grilled chicken breast. Simple enough, but as I sliced up the chicken and took a bite, it was clear that the meat was not quite thoroughly cooked. Here’s where it gets screwy: I ate half of it anyway.

On a normal night I would have waved down our server and politely requested that the meat go back on the grill for a few more minutes till it was cooked through. But this particular night came at the tail end of a long week of self-loathing. I’d spent days focusing on business failings, financial failings, and personal failings (among them, feeling like the only childless woman among my überly-reproductive peers). I risked getting violently ill because at the time I thought to myself It’s not worth it. Which, if you haven’t already guessed, translates to I am not worth it.

I thought about this a lot in the days that followed, and after I stopped beating myself up, I remembered something someone taught me long ago. If I were a mother lioness and my baby cubs were at risk, I would be fierce about protecting them. If I’d paid good money for an expensive meal for my family, I would insist that it be served to my satisfaction. If my child was served a plate of raw meat, I would immediately return it to the kitchen. So…isn’t it time I start taking care of my inner child?

Much of my life I was groomed to be polite, not make waves, keep the peace. And there’s a place for that. But as I work through this process of grieving and healing, I think there’s also a place for standing up for myself, speaking up, being fierce on my own behalf. I can start with something as little as refusing to accept bad chicken. Because, as the classic L’Oreal campaign has tried to imprint in us, I’m worth it.

Kathleen Guthrie Woods is a Northern California–based freelance writer. She is mostly at peace with her childfree status.

 

Learning to Ask for Help

Help“Ancora imparo. [I am still learning.]”

― Michelangelo, at age 87 in 1562

I am still learning. And thank goodness, too. If all I had to go on for the rest of my life was all I know now, I think I’d be in a lot of trouble down the road. That’s the beauty of age, experience, and wisdom, I suppose. It takes life experience to gain knowledge, and life experience only comes with checking off the years.

Last year, I learned an important lesson that I wish I’d learned much sooner. I learned to ask for help.

Near the end of last year, I was working through where I wanted to take this site, while trying to keep my freelance writing jobs going, and thinking about the novel I’m supposed to be writing. I was trying to write blog posts, maintain the website, fix tech issues, run a workshop, and keep a marriage ticking along. Finally, I threw up my hands and said what equated to, “I can’t do this all by myself, so I’m not going to do any of it.” I really was ready to throw in the towel.

Fortunately I have a wise group of peers and an amazing mentor who talked me through my angst and convinced me to ask for help. I found an assistant to help with the blog and found a web designer to take care of the site properly. Their help freed me up to do the work I really wanted to do, which is writing posts and developing this community. What’s more, the other work got done quicker and better than if I’d struggled along as usual trying to figure it all out for myself.

The experience gave me pause and caused me to look back at my past and take a close look at myself. Turns out I have never been a person who asks for help. It’s not so much pride that stops me from asking, but more a sense of toughness. “I can do this on my own. I don’t need help.” Now I’m writing it here, it sounds an awful lot like stubbornness, but there you go.

I was also tough (or stubborn) when I was going through the grinder of infertility and later, when I was trying to figure out how to ever make peace with my situation. I never asked for help, even though I needed it. In part I believed it was pointless to ask for help because no one else could really understand what I was going through. I also didn’t want to upset people I knew and cared about, and I didn’t want to put myself in the position of comforting them.

In hindsight, I wish I’d asked for help. I wish I’d taking the chance of confiding in a friend. I wish I’d thought to look for a support group or hired the professional help of a therapist. I would have arrived at my place on peace a lot sooner than I did. But hindsight is 20/20 as they say, and I hadn’t yet learned the value of asking for help.

How about you? Have you asked for help? If so, where have you found it?

You’re Not Alone: Communication

By Robin

Communication.

It’s an enormous word, or at least its impact is. What a difference communicating makes. It opens up an entire world of reality. It lets people in. This is one of the reasons some people choose not to communicate. Sometimes it’s so much easier to assume than actually go through the process of finding something out. This is something I am guilty of.

After my most recent miscarriage, I pushed my husband away.  I was in so much pain and didn’t know what to do. I had lost hope and wasn’t sure if I’d ever get it back. At one point my husband and I sat down and told each other that, with my outlook (all hope is lost) and his outlook (we can try again when we’re ready), we were wearing on one another. Neither of us could take much more of the opposite. With this said between us I stopped communicating with him. I didn’t want to cause him pain because I was in enough of it for both of us. I was also in fear that he would leave (even though he NEVER gave me a reason to think that.) It wasn’t until I realized by NOT communicating I was making things worse that I decided to try communicating how I felt and tell my husband what he could do for me while I was hurting. First I had to figure out how I felt and what I needed, but then I had to communicate it to the person I wanted and needed.

When I chose to communicate, a world of happiness followed. I realized I had assumed most things wrong. Even the few things I may have assumed correctly weren’t nearly as awful as I’d thought, and most made more sense with a little explanation. My husband told me the reasons behind why he had the outlook he had (way more positive and filled with hope than I could ever muster right after losing my baby) and that he wanted to take away my pain, “fix it”, because he loved me. He reminded me that we don’t get this time back and he wants to enjoy every moment of our life together with or without a baby in it. I realized he can see his future with or without a baby and, even though he’ll be happier with one, he’ll be ok either way. I, on the other hand, still can’t bring myself to seeing a future without one. (Note to self: I need to work on this, just in case.) I needed my husband to remind me we’re in this together, whatever “this” ends up being.

Communication has brought my husband and me closer. It brings us all closer to those we communicate with. It brought back happiness in my life and relationships. Things that used to bother me aren’t as important anymore. They aren’t worth being bothered over. I’ve never been happier I communicated my feelings and what I needed. First I had to figure those two things out which is a struggle of it’s own. BUT when you figure out what you need and how you feel, I highly recommend communicating and sharing those things with the people around you. The people you feel the safest with and know and love you. Also share with them how you need them to respond or not respond to the way you feel. Sometimes all you need is a listening ear and not a solution. Many times the people who care about you want to help you any way they can. I needed to tell my husband there wasn’t a solution to keep me from grieving. I just needed to stop running and feel these emotions right now in order to get through them. I had to let him know all I needed from him was a listening ear and a shoulder to cry on. Communication is a wonderful thing and I hope you, too, find happiness or peace through it.

I wish I had realized the importance of communication sooner because since I communicated with my husband, and he with me, we have felt as close to each other as we did when we were newlyweds. We haven’t felt this way for years. I know my grieving isn’t over and who knows what feelings will come when/if we try again or decide we’re through and begin our own life without baby adventure. What I do know is that if we continue to communicate openly and honestly we will be much happier and most likely see the next 10+ years together.

 

About Robin: I live in New Hampshire with my husband of 10 years and our 4 year old dog, Samuel Adams, aka Sam. We have been trying to conceive through IVF for a little over 2 years. We’ve been through 6 cycles resulting in 3 failed attempts along with 1 ectopic pregnancy and 2 miscarriages. We are currently taking a break after our last miscarriage in August 2012. We are taking things a day at a time and trying to reconnect before making a decision whether or not to try again in the New Year. If you’d like to follow my blog as I write about our journey, come check it out at www.miraclesinwaiting.com.

 

Editor’s Note: If you’d like to see your story in “You’re Not Alone,” check out our Guidelines for how to submit.